Technically, it did kill me
by TheGeekFromAus
Summary: A man at a door of a normal street in a normal part of London, is it the man that has been dead a year now? Post Reichenbach Falls, takes place a year after. Rebuilding of friendships later on. Will update every week or so. Not really good at summaries... On Haitus
1. Returned

_My second or third attempt at writing a Sherlock fanfiction but my first ever story that I have put __on here. It is very short, sorry about that. I hope Sherlock doesn't seem too OOC. It was self edited so I hope grammar and everything it okay. Please review, it will help me with the later chapters. Follow if you want to see more. Am I being too presumptuous? Next chapter will be longer...promise!_

A man knocked on a door in a very normal street in a very normal part of London. Except this apartment in London wasn't normal. It is the home of the one and only, brilliant Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes. Well, it used to be. Now his best friend and blogger, John Watson, has been left all alone to deal with Sherlock's 'fall'. The man who had knocked at the door waited a couple minutes, his cape like coat billowing around him, till he decided that no one was home. He took a key from his pocket, remembering things he had been trying to delete. Just as he turned the key in the lock a sweet looking old lady opened the door. It was Mrs Hudson; Sherlock and John's landlady and 'not their housekeeper' as she used to remind them both.

"Sorry, that it took me so long. It's my hip you see-" Mrs Hudson said as she pulled the door open and finally looked at the man standing in front of her. She took in the mass of dark brown curls at the top of his head, the scarf hanging from his lanky neck, the coat billowing around him and the semi formal clothes he wore under it until she finally looked into his eyes. His piercing ice blue eyes, the ones she could never mistake for anyone else.

"Sherlo-" she choked out but was interrupted by the man hugging her.

"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock said as he held the old woman tight.

"You nearly killed John, you know!" Mrs Hudson scolded as they let go of each other, her scold was ineffective as she smiled at the man who had been 'dead' for a year now.

"It nearly killed me, technically it did kill me. I had no other choice Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock said, trying to justify his act of falling off a building. "Alright, deary. John will be home soon. Don't scare him too much. He's pretty unstable at the moment," Mrs Hudson chided a she moved aside so that Sherlock could enter the house.

"Can you help me make sure there isn't anything too hard that he can throw at me, Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock chuckled as they walked up to his old kitchen still full of his things that John hadn't brought himself to throw out.


	2. Sherlock? Yes, John?

_**Second Chapter is up sooner than I thought it would be. I had a writing streak. Third chapter should be finished in the next couple days. Self edited, sorry for any mistakes. Please R&R, as well as follow if you want more it will help encourage me to write more. :) Have fun reading...**_

_Last time on 'Technically, it did kill me'_

_"Alright, deary, John will be home soon. Don't scare him too much. He's pretty unstable at the moment," Mrs. Hudson chided as she moved aside so that Sherlock could enter the house._

_"Can you help me make sure there isn't anything too hard that he can throw at me, Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock chuckled as they walked up to his old kitchen still full of his things that John hadn't brought himself to throw out._

- _Now on 'Technically, it did kill me'_ -

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she wandered around the kitchen.

"Yes, please. Oh good, John didn't throw out any of my possessions! I was dreading having to actually go to the shops and buy new things," Sherlock stated as he looked around his old room, a layer of dust over almost everything bar the few items that looked as though they were picked up regularly.

"I don't think he was thinking of your comfort when he left those things in there, Sherlock! I could hear him going into your room sometimes, he missed you terribly. At first he barely ever came back to the apartment, and then he would only leave for work. I was getting very worried, but he seems to have been getting better. He goes out to see that nice Greg boy for cases sometimes, saying things to me like 'it's what Sherlock would have wanted'. He hasn't been the same since," Mrs. Hudson informed Sherlock as she placed the tea on the table in front of the arm chair that Sherlock had sat down on.

Sherlock wiped his hand down the arm of the chair, pushing the dust onto the floor. He noticed the table had stains on it where there had been tea spilt by shaking hands. With the amount of dust on the chair he doubted anyone had sat on it for months, maybe even the whole year that he had been away. That was when he remembered again that John was a man of sentiment; he must have laid out tea for Sherlock even after Sherlock's 'death', part of him still refusing to believe that Sherlock was gone. Sherlock sighed as he sipped his tea and looked at Mrs. Hudson, she looked basically the same as the last time he had seen her, a few more wrinkles maybe. Then a memory came up in his mind without his permission, one of the last time he had seen Mrs. Hudson and John – it wasn't the day of his fall it was a months after that. He had come back to see them one last time and pick up a couple of his possessions before leaving the country.

_The curtain twitched on the second story window and Sherlock saw John's head poking out of the small gap he had created. _

_John searched the street, as he did almost every night, for a glimpse of his best friend that was never coming. He gasped a little as he saw a face turn around the end of the street. John blinked to make sure he hadn't imagined it, but it was gone leaving John to wonder what his subconscious was telling him._

_"Damn, he saw me!" Sherlock whispered to himself as he turned back around the corner. He slid down the wall and waited another ten minutes before he knew that John had exited the house to go to the pub with Lestrade as he had been doing a lot in the past week._

_Sherlock sighed, at least it was better than John staying out till all hours, avoiding going home except when it was necessary for him to sleep. He stepped out from behind the wall and ran to the door of 221B Baker Street. Knowing that Mrs. Hudson would be well and truly asleep by now he put his key into the lock and then turned it. Sherlock made sure he didn't make too much noise as he strode up the stairs to his old apartment, he opened the door and then looked upon the flat still full of his things and experiments._

_"I hope John will get rid of everything that will become mouldy eventually," Sherlock whispered to himself again as he walked around the flat._

_He picked up a couple possessions that John wouldn't notice missing and then went to his room, picked up a jacket, shirt and trousers and then walked back out of the flat._

_ He shut the door and then went back downstairs. He decided against going into Mrs. Hudson's flat for the pure fact that if it was one of Mrs. Hudson's more restless nights he may be caught and forced to explain what had happened which would just put himself and her in more danger._

_The lock clicked as he locked it and then went back to his spot behind the wall, waiting till John came home later that night just to make sure that his best and only friend was alright._

"Sherlock? Sherlock! It's not polite to tune people out when they haven't seen you in a year!" Mrs. Hudson said as she took the cup from Sherlock that he had emptied over the past five minutes.

"Sorry, Mrs. Hudson. I was just thinking over the last time I had seen you and John," Sherlock said, disturbed by his own inability to control his thoughts.

"That's alright, dear. But remember, while I may not want to ask any questions about why you did what you did, John definitely will," she responded when she had come back into the living room.

"I know," Sherlock drawled, "but whether he asks questions or not, I still cannot tell him what happened, it will only endanger both of us!"

"Yes, of course Sherlock."

Suddenly there was the sound of something falling downstairs followed by a muttered swear word.

"John's home. Be nice, now," the landlady said as she moved off down to her own room before John had a chance to see her.

"I'm back!" John half yelled up the stairs.

"I realised, dear. Now be careful when you get into your apartment!" Mrs. Hudson replied.

John wondered what the warning was all about as he climbed the stairs. He opened the door and walked into the empty flat, looking around and seeing everything in it's usual spot. He walked into the kitchen and put a bag on the counter, then stopped. He turned around slowly, thinking over what he thought he had just seen.

He blinked his eyes a couple times as they came to rest again on the figure hunched over Sherlock's arm chair in his living room. The ice blue eyes looked up at him from under the curly mop of hair.

Slowly John walked over to the arm chair with his hand out in front of him, this wasn't the first time his mind had imagined Sherlock sitting in that chair but it was certainly the only time the image had stayed there so long.

He gasped as his fingers hit cloth covered flesh and then stumbled back.

"Oh, God. Sher-Sherlock?" John asked not believing his own sense of touch.

"Yes, John?" Sherlock smiled at 'his' blogger.

"Sherlock!" John said, his voice full of relief and curiosity.

Sherlock just smiled yet again in response as his old flatmate's face cycled through emotions; confused, intrigued, relieved, wonder, anger.

_'Wait? Anger?'_ Sherlock thought to himself. He had expected everything else except the anger.

John advanced on Sherlock with a flame in his eyes, his hands were balled into fists and his face was flushed angrily.

"What's wrong, John?" Sherlock asked, confused for once.

"You know bloody hell what's wrong! You fell! You died! You left me!" John yelled as he grabbed the front of Sherlock's shirt, pulling him into a standing position.


	3. The fob watches

**_Bit late sorry! Hope you've liked the story so far. This is the third installment obviously, but the fourth should be up in the next couple days. Self edited, sorry for any mistakes. Please R&R, as well as follow if you want more it will help encourage me to write more. :) I'll stop badgering you, read to your heart's content..._**

_- Last time on 'Technically, it did kill me' -_

_"What's wrong, John?" Sherlock asked, confused for once._

_"You know bloody hell what's wrong! You fell! You died! You left me!" John yelled as he grabbed the front of Sherlock's shirt, pulling him into a standing position._

_- Now on 'Technically, it did kill me' -_

__"I'm sorry, John! I had no choice. You all would have died if I didn't jump," Sherlock stated calmly as John's grip lessened on his shirt.

"You could have at least told me that you were alive! I thought you were dead! How can you just come in here and say 'I'm sorry' with your big pompous attitude and expect that I will be fine with that after a whole bloody year!" John half yelled, his anger dying away while being replaced with relief and concern.

"I am truly sorry, John. I can't tell you how I did it, but I can tell you why," Sherlock offered, he had figured out that John's anger was leaving him as he motioned for John to sit down and he sat down himself.

"Alright, why then?" John asked apprehensively as he sat down.

"Moriarty, he had the criminal network look for you, Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft. They had a sniper on all of you. Unless I jumped, they would have killed all of you. He wanted me to die in shame, a black spot on the Holmes name. I didn't work though! Moriarty shot himself. I can come back; I can prove that everything he made people think about me was a lie," Sherlock said, when suddenly he started smiling. He couldn't help himself smiling, he was with his blogger who still believed him despite all the lies John had heard from his own mouth.

John sat there in awe of Sherlock, not daring to move in case this was a dream as the absurdity of it all finally dawned on him. John may had asked, begged and wished for a miracle; for Sherlock to be alive, but he had never once thought that it would actually happen. In the back of his mind he always knew the reality, always knew that Sherlock was dead. Yet here the detective was, sitting here right in front of John's eyes.

"I, Sherlock. I can't believe this. I can't believe that you are actually back."

"Why not? I am physical proof right in front of you. Unless you have taken highly hallucinogenic drugs, which I doubt due to your reaction times; then why not believe that I am here?"

"No, Sherlock. That's not what I meant," John choked out a laugh. "I just am happy that you are back but it's hard to comprehend that you are back after a whole year of being dead."

"Hard to comprehend? As I said before, I am physical proof-"

"Just, leave it. The almighty Sherlock wouldn't understand," John laughed again; reminding himself that after all this was Sherlock Holmes in front of him. The almost machine like man who called himself a 'high functioning sociopath' when really that wasn't the case at all. Why would he jump off a building if he didn't care about the people that they were about to shoot, even if he did know that he was going to live.

"I've never understood sentiment; don't get me wrong, I still don't. It's just good to be back. I might call Lestrade; I haven't had a good murder in a year!" Sherlock exclaimed as he sunk back in the arm chair.

"Talking about sentiment; I got this re stringed," John said as he picked up a violin from next to his arm chair, "I tried to learn but I was hopeless at it."

"Thank you, John. I missed composing, it cleaned up my mind palace," Sherlock said placing the violin on his collarbone and bending his chin onto it.

As the first, sweet note rang out into the air Mrs. Hudson walked back into the room with a suspicious looking red box in her hands.

"It's good to hear you playing again, dear," Mrs. Hudson said as she shuffled over to them with the box still in hand.

"I thought you were out, Mrs. Hudson!" John exclaimed, startled.

"Oh yes. I came home early and then Sherlock came home. I wanted to let you two catch up a little. Anyway, dear, I found this is with my other things while I was cleaning up a tad. I bought it just before you left, Sherlock. So, here you are, I'll be off now I have to go and see a friend," Mrs. Hudson said with a knowing smile as she put the box on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock and John said in perfect synchronization, they then looked at each other and promptly burst out in spontaneous laughter.

Mrs. Hudson smiled at the scene in front of her and then silently left the men to their fit of laughter.

It took them a minute or so after Mrs. Hudson had left to regain their composure till finally they just sat their staring at each other. In silence they held each other's gaze, thinking about all that had happened in the last year.

"You're not going to open the box, then?" John stated in the form of a question because he already knew the answer.

"No," Sherlock replied even though he knew the question did not need answering.

"Alright then," John said as he picked up the box and started opening it, "No idea what it could be then?"

"Unfortunately not," Sherlock said as he watched the surprise in John's face.

John had just emptied the contents of the box into his hand where two identical fob watches lay side by side, their ornate carvings glimmering in the soft light.

"Interesting. Fob watches. Must have been late for tea one too many times," John laughed and Sherlock joined in.

"You sure they don't encase a Time Lord Consciousness like in that _Doctor Who_ show you like to watch?" scoffed Sherlock as he put his violin down so that he could take one of the fob watches from John.

"Oh, it has a JW carved into it!" John exclaimed as he examined the watch more closely.

"Yes, John. That was how I knew to take this one," Sherlock explained as he showed John the SH carving on his own watch.

"Personalized, identical fob watches. Unusual present," John said as he put the watch into the top pocket of his shirt.

"Yes, even I can't figure this one out, John," Sherlock said as he did the same with his own watch and then sat back down.

**_So I really wasn't sure what to put in the box, I decided that fob watches could lead to a side story about Mrs. Hudson…Would you like that? I am really not sure where this story is going, originally I thought it might become Johnlock but now I'm not sure. Please review and tell me what you want to read because I can't think of what to put in it._**


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